


Acceptance

by RuArcher (Coriesocks)



Series: Shipmas 2018 [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Awkward Boners, Boys Kissing, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Jumper, Frottage, M/M, New Relationship, Shipmas 2018, Weasley Jumpers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 03:28:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16846246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coriesocks/pseuds/RuArcher
Summary: Scorpius receives an unexpected gift with very unexpected consequences.





	Acceptance

**Author's Note:**

> The second of my Shipmas 2018 fics!  
> Prompt: Mrs Weasley's Christmas jumpers  
> I also drew some art for it, which you can see [here](https://coriesocks.tumblr.com/post/180789082818/my-second-shipmas-2018-fic-thanks-again-to-the)

Dating Albus was everything Scorpius had imagined it would be. Okay, so it had only been one full day and two nights so far, but every single hour had been wonderful. They’d not ‘officially’ told anyone yet—Albus was nervous about his family finding out and wanted to tell them face to face over the Christmas holidays, and Scorpius didn’t want to pressure him into doing something he wasn’t comfortable with—so they were currently keeping things quiet at school to avoid news somehow getting home. It wasn’t easy, keeping the news to himself. Scorpius desperately wanted to tell his father, both because he was sure he would be over the moon that Scorpius had found someone who made him so happy, and because he shared everything with him (he’d had to suffer through more than one letter from Scorpius bemoaning his misfortune at having a crush on his straight best friend). But if Albus wanted them to keep it quiet until Christmas, Scorpius would do everything in his power to keep his mouth shut.

He’d been a little worried that their horrendously public first kiss would spark a few rumours, but neither of them had gotten even a whiff of any gossip so he could only assume it had gone unnoticed. It was odd, but understandable, he supposed. Everyone’s attention must have been on the lights and the band members. He and Albus were not quite the social pariahs they had once been before their rather eventful fourth year, but they still weren’t popular, and the chances were, if someone had caught them snogging, they would have found something to say about it.

The worst part about being in a secret relationship with Albus was that Scorpius suddenly felt very aware of their every interaction. Every time they spoke or even looked at each other, Scorpius would panic that he was making their new status too obvious. Albus appeared to be similarly affected if the way he flinched whenever their arms brushed was any indication. So yes, dating Albus Potter was wonderful, but Scorpius thought the stress might finish him off before they even made it home for Christmas.

“Do you think you’ll be able to visit over the holidays?” Scorpius hissed in Albus’ ear, not wanting anyone to overhear and jump to conclusions (no matter that the conclusions would likely be correct). The Great Hall was busy enough that morning that he doubted anyone would be able to hear even if he’d spoken in his normal voice, but better to be safe than sorry.

Albus snapped his head up and cast a shifty glance to either side, “I dunno,” he shrugged. “I guess? Or you could come to mine? That’s what we normally do?”

“I know but… It’ll be different this time because of…” He searched his mind for the right words, but came up empty. Meanwhile, Albus stared at him blankly, being absolutely no bloody help at all. “… _you know_ ,” he finished eventually. “I mean, if you still want to tell them, that is. And you absolutely don’t have to. I’m applying no pressure whatsoever, just supporting whatever decision you make, whatever that might be—”

“Scorp, it’s okay. I’m gonna tell them.” He surreptitiously patted Scorpius’ knee beneath the table, clearly unaware of what that small action did to Scorpius’ insides.

Scorpius snapped his mouth shut and studied Albus’ face for a moment, checking for any signs of doubt, before smiling gratefully. He was rewarded by a rare smile in return; one of the small, soft ones that he knew Albus gifted only to him. It made his heart flutter and he tightened his grip on his spoon to prevent himself from reaching between them to grab Albus’ hand or fling his arms around his neck. 

“So yeah,” Albus said through a mouthful of toast, “I guess you can just come over sometime after Boxing day, maybe stay for New Year’s? Dad said something about us all going to Gran’s for Christmas which is going to be ridiculously awkward because, you know, the divorce and all that crap, but I can’t see us staying long.”

“Ah, yes, messy business, divorce,” Scorpius agreed, nodding sagely. Harry Potter’s separation from Albus’ mum had been all the wizarding world could talk about for months after the news had broken in the Prophet, but things had eventually died down. The constant speculation on the love lives of the now single Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley wasn’t much better, though.

Before Scorpius could add anything reassuring, as he normally did, they were interrupted by the appearance of the post owls. It wasn’t usually much of an event, but in December, there were many more parcels so it was amusing to watch the owls drop them willy nilly on the tables, disrupting bowls of cereal, racks of toast and plates of hot food. He suspected they did it on purpose as payback for having to carry such unwieldy packages and he was thankful he had his owl-order shopping delivered directly to the Manor.

“Isn’t that Barry?” Scorpius asked, squinting at the familiar shape of the bird flying straight for them. Barry was Albus’ grandparents’ owl, named as such because Arthur had wanted a good Muggle name, and James had jokingly told him that Barry was very popular. “Oh, do you think it’s an early Christmas present?” Scorpius squeaked excitedly. 

Albus frowned as he followed the bird’s approach. “I don’t know. They don’t usually send presents early.”

They both watched as the owl swooped lower and then dropped its parcel in Scorpius’ lap.

“How odd. Do you think it got confused?” He picked up the package and handed it to Albus without really looking at it. 

“Er, it’s addressed to you,” Albus said, brows furrowed. He passed it back and Scorpius accepted it gingerly. He turned over the tag and there was his name, inked clearly in gently curling black letters. A parcel? For him? From Albus’ grandparents? _Did they know?_

He turned it around slowly in his hands and gently squeezed it to try and work out what it was. It felt soft beneath the crisp, brown paper, like there was clothing inside, but why would—

“Oh my gosh,” he whispered. It couldn’t be, could it?

“Come on, Scorp, you’re killing me!” Albus cried. “Open the sodding present!” He nudged Scorpius in the shoulder, and when Scorpius looked up, caught by the harshness of his words, he saw Albus watching him fondly.

Tugging at the bow to undo it, he slowly pulled the ribbon off before placing it to one side. Then he carefully unwrapped the paper, revealing a deep green, woollen jumper.

He reverently lifted it from the packaging and held it up, careful to avoid soiling it with stray breakfast items. There was an _S_ in the middle, knitted with pale grey, almost silvery yarn. Scorpius’ eyes started to burn, so he hurriedly blinked a few times and took a deep breath to forestall an embarrassing emotional display.

“Hey, there’s a note too,” Albus said, breaking Scorpius out of his head. He held out a folded sheet of parchment decorated with a sprig of holly, and Scorpius took it from him, opening it with trembling hands.

_Dear Scorpius,_

_Just a little something so you don’t feel out of place when you turn up at the Burrow for Christmas. We can’t wait to see you._

_Love,  
Molly and Arthur._

“What the…” He looked at Albus to see if he was in on the strangeness, but he looked just as confused.

“I didn’t know you were coming to Gran’s for Christmas,” Albus said, sounding slightly put out. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Do you honestly think I have any clue what’s going on right now?”

As Albus opened his mouth to reply, the Malfoy’s large Eagle owl landed rather dramatically in the centre of the table, startling more than a few students.

“Thank you, Djehuty,” Scorpius said solemnly, trading a sausage for the letter in Djehuty’s talons.

_Scorpius,_

_In a break from tradition, we’ll be spending Christmas with the Weasleys this year._

_Dad_

“Well. That’s infuriatingly vague,” Scorpius said, absently passing the note to Albus. “Why have we been invited? You don’t think… You don’t think they _know_ , do you? Is this…do you think they’re planning an intervention?” he asked, baffled.

Albus screwed up his face as he studied the note, turning it over and finding nothing on the reverse. He scratched a hand through his hair. “I don’t _think_ so. I mean, I’m fairly sure Mum or Dad or _someone_ would have owled to yell at me not telling them…” He trailed off so Scorpius took the note back and scrutinised it some more; desperately searching for something they’d missed; a hidden clue as to the strange turn of events. 

“This is good though, yeah?” Albus asked, hesitantly. 

Scorpius glanced up at him, surprised after having temporarily forgotten where he was. “Hmm? Oh, yes, it’s fantastic! Brilliant, even!” he cried, and Albus sagged with relief. “We’ll be able to make our little announcement, ‘Guess what we’ve been up too? Surprise! Yay!’ and then distract them all with gifts. It’ll be great. Better than great. _Perfect_. A perfect Christmas shall be had by all.” Scorpius almost managed to convince himself of that, but the feeling that he was missing something significant wouldn’t go away.

He was quickly distracted from his worries, though, as Albus flicked a bit of toast at him, snorting out a laugh at Scorpius’ indignant yelp when the toast pinged off the side of his face and into his tea.

It would be fine, he told himself. He needed to stop over-thinking and start focusing on the important part, which was that by some marvellous stroke of luck, he was getting to spend Christmas with his boyfriend. 

———

Scorpius carefully hung his shirt on a hanger and hooked it to the outside of his wardrobe ready for school the next day. Next, he slipped off his trousers and stowed them neatly in the box he kept under the bed for worn-once clothes. As he turned to grab his pyjamas from his pillow, he caught sight of Mrs Weasley’s green jumper, lying on the foot of his bed where he’d left it after breakfast that morning. He didn’t think Albus had understood what a momentous gift it was—he’d always felt on the outside of the Potter-Weasley family, even though Albus’ mum had always been friendly towards him; even though Albus’ dad had finally gotten over his suspiciousness; even though his dad and Albus’ dad were actually quite good friends now. To be given his own Weasley Christmas jumper, though—to be invited to spend Christmas at the Burrow with all of Albus’ extended family—that was huge! He loved his small, rather compact family, but he’d always been a tiny bit jealous of Albus’ chaotic tangle of relations. He hoped this show of acceptance would mean they would all be happy once he and Albus made their announcement. 

Just looking at the jumper gave him all sorts of warm, fuzzy feelings so he picked it up and held it against his chest, smiling as he looked down and saw the large S, proudly displayed in a beautiful pale grey yarn. It looked to be a perfect fit, but he hadn’t had the chance to try it on yet. With a self-conscious glance at the bathroom door, behind which, Albus was getting ready for bed, he slipped it over his head and pushed his arms through the sleeves. He sighed contentedly. It was perfect! It was like wearing a warm, woolly hug! How could she have known his exact size? He walked over to the one full length mirror in their dorm and struck a few poses, marvelling at Mrs Weasley’s skill.

A muffled thud tore his attention from his reflection and he turned to see Albus standing in the doorway, mouth hanging open, his toiletry bag at his feet. His hair was still wet from his shower, and his pyjamas clung in places to his damp skin.

“Is everything okay?” Scorpius ventured when Albus didn’t move or speak. His cheeks were flushed with colour, and he looked slightly fevered. “Should I—do you need me to take you to see Madam Pomfrey? You look a tad peaky.” He took a step forward and that seemed to be enough to wake Albus from his trance.

“No!” Albus yelped, flinching away from him. “I’m fine! I…yes, fine. Never finer.” He snatched up his toiletry bag, clutching it in front of him like a shield, and stumbled the short distance to his bed. Dumping his things unceremoniously on the floor, he practically leapt onto the mattress and drew the curtains with a practised flick of his wand.

Scorpius was dumbfounded. He’d never once seen Albus act so peculiarly, and he prided himself on knowing the boy inside out. He wracked his brain for a reason for Albus’ odd behaviour, but came up with nothing. What could have happened in the ten minutes he’d been in the shower? He _must_ be unwell—there was simply no other explanation. 

Tentatively, he stepped up to the edge of Albus’ bed.

“Albus? Are you sure you’re alright?” 

“Yes! Just tired. Don’t worry about me,” Albus replied, his voice strained.

Scorpius debated briefly about whether it would be considered rude to poke his head through the curtain, and then decided that as Albus’ best friend and _boyfriend_ , it was his sworn duty to check that he really was okay with his own two eyes and not just take his word for it. What if Albus had been cursed or something? He could be in danger!

Cautiously, he stuck his head through the curtain. “Albus, I—” 

Albus cut him off with a squawk and quickly yanked a pillow from behind him, pressing it into his lap as he hunched over his legs. “Scorp! I said I was fine!”

“Yes, but you’re clearly not! It would be terribly remiss of me to ignore such obvious signs of discomfort.” He crawled onto the bed and settled, cross-legged, opposite his boyfriend.

Albus groaned and hid his face in his hands. “Why are you doing this to me?” he mumbled.

“Excuse me? Am I not allowed to show concern? You’re my—” he dropped his voice down to a whisper, just in case any of their dorm mates had wandered into the room, “—you’re my boyfriend,” he hissed.

“I know! But do you really have to prance about half-naked in one of my Gran’s hand-knitted jumpers? Do you have any idea how…how…how _conflicted_ that makes me feel?”

“Oh.” Scorpius looked down at himself, taking in the pale legs dusted with course blond hair, the knobbly knees, the long slender feet with slightly crooked big toes that were apparently a family trait, and suddenly realised that yes, he was indeed half naked. Was Albus really so disgusted by him that he’d had to hide in bed? Was he having second thoughts? “What do you mean?” he asked quietly, hating how weak and needy he sounded. He tugged the hem of the jumper down, feeling uncomfortably exposed.

“I want to…I don’t know,” he looked off to the side, fiddling with the edge of the cushion. “You look so good, you know that, right? Like all the time, but especially now, and…and I just want to, I don’t know, grab you and do all sorts of… _stuff_ with you.”

Scorpius gasped and brought a hand up to his mouth. He could feel his cheeks heating, the blush spreading out to the tips of his ears. He’d never heard Albus say anything like that before—he was always so reserved with how he expressed his emotions—normally, Scorpius had to interpret how he was feeling based on the smallest changes in his demeanour and a few mumbled words. He was still a little confused though. “But…why should that make you feel conflicted? Do you not want to do…stuff? I mean, it’s totally okay if you don’t. Really really. I’d never—I mean, it won’t change how I feel about you or anything, but—”

“Scorp,” Albus leant forward and plucked Scorpius’ hand out the air from where he’d been gesturing wildly as he rambled. “I do _want_ to do…stuff. Believe me. You have no idea how much I want to. But my Gran knitted that jumper! My whole family wears those jumpers! You’re going to be wearing that jumper when we all sit down to Christmas dinner, and Merlin knows it’s going to be weird enough without having to suffer through the whole thing with…” his cheeks seemed to darken further, if that was even possible, and Scorpius watched his throat bob as he swallowed “…with one of these.” Albus tossed the pillow to one side and gestured to his lap, while fixing his gaze firmly on the bed canopy. Scorpius looked down as indicated and sucked in a breath at the sight of the very obvious tent in his pyjama bottoms.

“Oh! Oh, wow. Yes. I can see how that would be…a tad...problematic.” He could feel his own blood rushing south and knew he would look in a similar state if the jumper wasn’t covering his groin. He felt a little light headed—Albus was like that because of _him_. A grin spread unbidden across his face. “So, you, um… You like this look then?” He preened slightly and leant back on his hands. They’d not done anything more than steal a few kisses so far, but if Albus was ready for more, Scorpius was right there with him. He had well over a year of fantasies and wet dreams to work through.

Albus shook his head, and then finally, _finally_ , met Scorpius’ gaze. “I think that goes without saying.” He smirked, and the sight of those sullen lips quirked up at the corners sent a shiver zipping down Scorpius’ spine.

“So what sort of… _stuff_ …did you have in mind?” His arousal was making him feel drunk. It was like that time at Aunty Pansy’s last Christmas when he and Fedorico Zabini had sneaked a couple of glasses of Firewhisky while the adults were distracted. He felt like anything was possible and he wanted to do it all.

“Come here,” Albus said, shuffling over and making room beside him at the head of the bed. He rearranged himself so he was lying down.

Scorpius jolted forwards and scrambled to Albus’ side, narrowly avoiding falling head-butting the bed-post when his foot got caught in the sheets, but then they were lying face-to-face and nothing else mattered. His heart raced and his breathing sounded too loud, his chest heaving like he’d just run down to the dungeons from the seventh floor. He could already feel his erection straining at the fabric of his underwear and he eyes fluttered closed briefly at the thought that he might actually get to live out something he’d spent so long believing would never happen.

He grinned shyly, overcome with nerves in the face of all the possibilities now that Albus was right there in front of him and they were actually alone. As one, they glanced down to where their groins were almost touching. Scorpius saw a small wet patch blooming on Albus’ grey pyjama bottoms, where the head of his penis was pressed against the material, and it made his hips twitch as a wave of lust rolled through him. The small motion was enough to brush their erections together and that was all it took to break the fragile tension.

Scorpius dove upon Albus like a starving man on food, rolling them over, almost tumbling them out of bed in his haste. Albus’ legs fell open and Scorpius easily slotted between them, only a couple of thin layers of fabric separating their flesh. It was the closest they’d even been. Their teeth clacked as they struggled to find their rhythm, Scorpius unable to focus on anything beyond the sensation of Albus’ erection rubbing up against his own. Albus’ toothpaste-fresh tongue fought with his own, still sweet from the Sugar Quill he’d been munching while they did homework earlier that evening.

Their movements became frantic, their bodies a sweaty, writhing tangle. Scorpius’ lips were sore from scraping across Albus’ light dusting of stubble (which he was in no way jealous of) but he never wanted to stop. He could already feel his orgasm approaching, though, and when Albus’ hands snuck beneath his jumper and scratched down his back, blunt nails dragging across his skin, Scorpius almost lost it. 

Suddenly, Albus went rigid beneath him emitting a guttural moan that went straight to Scorpius’ dick. He continued thrusting against Albus, chasing his orgasm as heat pooled in his gut, but then Albus’ hands slid under his boxers, kneading his arse cheeks, urging him faster and faster until he crashed over the edge, shuddering through his orgasm as Albus peppered kisses on his neck.

“We are definitely doing that again,” Scorpius said once he’d caught his breath. They were lying side by side on Albus’ bed, staring up at the canopy above them, hands entwined between their heated bodies. Scorpius felt red-faced and sticky, and the jumper was now uncomfortably warm, but he couldn’t summon the energy to remove it. Besides, he’d have to sneak back to his own bed at some point and it would look marginally less scandalous if he was wearing more than just a pair of pale blue boxers. Boxers which now sported a large, sticky, wet patch that would be hard to explain away.

“Fuck yes. You were amazing, Scorp,” Albus said, turning his head to grin crookedly at him.

“Why thank you. You weren’t too shabby yourself,” he replied, reaching over to pat Albus on the head, but missing and just kind of pawing at his face.

“Hey!” Albus elbowed him in the side. “Anyone would think you didn’t want to do it again.”

“Terribly sorry. You were fantastic, wonderful, awe-inspiring, mind-blowing. You’re a national treasure and your penis should be framed and put on display for all the world to marvel at its glory. Need I go on?” 

“Thank you, that’ll do. For now.” He squeezed Scorpius’ hand and they lay in companionable silence for a few minutes. 

Scorpius could feel his eyes growing heavy. He knew he should go and clean himself up before the rest of their dorm mates showed up but his limbs still felt too boneless, and he didn’t want to leave Albus’ side. He hadn’t ever felt so content. 

“Do you think we can pretend you lost the jumper?” Albus asked, jolting Scorpius out of the light doze he’d fallen into.

“What?” Scorpius jerked up onto his elbows and stared down at Albus. “Why would I do that? Do you want your family to hate me?”

“It’s not that, you idiot. It’s just… I’m never going to be able to look at that jumper without remembering what we just did!”

“Oh…well, if that’s the case, I might just have to wear it more often,” Scorpius smirked. “Although I’m definitely getting it cleaned before Christmas.”

Albus groaned. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t,” Scorpius replied smugly. To emphasise his point, he rolled back on top of Albus and nuzzled his neck. He giggled as Albus squirmed beneath him, and then shrieked when Albus managed to switch their positions. He was vaguely aware that their dorm mates could stumble in at any point, but he was enjoying himself too much to care. He wasn’t sure how things were going to turn out over Christmas once they came clean about their relationship, and he hoped it wouldn’t get too complicated, but one thing was certain; sharing a dorm with his boyfriend was going to be all sorts of fun.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Find me on tumblr @ [coriesocks](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/coriesocks)


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